


Pretty Things

by Fyre



Series: His Master's Son [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: M/M, Male Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 03:22:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/617517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, when one gives a gift with that personal touch, it's the most fitting gift of all.</p><p>Another off-shoot of the Rab and Bellamy romance from <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/409866/chapters/679810">An Inward Treasure</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty Things

It was useful, Bellamy thought, to be enamoured with one who knew his father’s lands better than he did himself. 

He had never been aware of the rather splendid waterfall that lay some two miles west of Westfell itself. As much as he knew there were rivers and hills, he had not even considered the possibility of a waterfall, nor had he really cared to think of them until Rab insisted they walk out to one.

Rab asked little of him, though Bellamy knew he would have given the world if he could. His lover was a man of simple tastes. A decent shirt, perhaps a fine bottle of wine once in a while, but Rab insisted there was little else he needed. 

A walk to a waterfall was hardly a chore.

Rab took his hunting accoutrements for the show of the thing, and Bellamy took his little-used paintbox. It was hardly seemly for two men to go on a stroll to a scenic area together without some demmed good reason.

Art and death, it seemed, went hand in hand.

“How the deuce did you find this place?” Bellamy asked, as they tromped through the woods towards the river.

“I fell in upstream,” Rab said cheerfully. “I was lucky no to be dashed to pieces on the rocks below.” He paused, letting Bellamy enter the clearing ahead of him, and Bellamy had to stop and catch his breath, awed. Rab came up behind him. “You see the rocks up the top? I caught myself there, else I wouldnae be here talking with you now.”

Bellamy raised his head. “You would have been a bloody mess,” he agreed, shivering as Rab slid an arm about his waist. There was something delicious about being embraced in the great outdoors, instead of hiding away in Rab’s house or his own chambers. He caught Rab’s wrist, his fingers slipping beneath the cuff of his lover’s shirt. 

“So that’s your intention, is it?”

“Well, I’m no one for admiring pretty things,” Rab murmured close to his ear. “You’re the nancy of us, after all. Nancies like pretty things, don’t they?”

“Ha,” Bellamy murmured. “This nancy is quite taken with a hairy, wretched scruff.” He hissed through his teeth when Rab’s teeth dragged across his throat. “Lud, you are being rather direct, what.”

“I’ve never had you by daylight,” Rab said, his voice thick and dark with want. “Always by candles and fire.” His breath was hot on Bellamy’s throat. “Let me have you by daylight, Bay. I want to see you as God intended.”

Bellamy shivered at his words, trembling to his toes. “I don’t imagine God would have had me on my knees quite that way,” he managed to say, his eyes fluttering shut as Rab’s other hand slid over his hip and pressed to the front of his breeches. 

“Then I will,” Rab said and squeezed firmly enough to make a small, stifled sound catch in Bellamy’s throat. “How will you have it, Bay? Your back? Your knees?” His tongue teased Bellamy’s ear, drawing another delightful tremor through him. “In the water?”

Bellamy forced his eyes open, looking up at the thundering spray, then down at the wide pool before him. His fingers tightened about Rab’s wrist. “We will not be swept away?” He forced a note of lightness into his voice. “For that would be demmed inconvenient after walking all this way.”

“I’ll keep you safe, Bay.” Rab’s whisper was as powerful as a confession of love.

Bellamy’s lips felt dry and he swallowed hard. “The water, then,” he whispered. He pressed back to Rab, and smiled as Rab’s fingers started tugging at the buttons of his breeches and the laces of his shirt. “Let me turn about.”

“We would never reach the water, then,” Rab said with a growl, as his hand slipped between fabric and flesh and clasped Bellamy with a familiarity that made his knees quiver. “Close your eyes and trust me.”

“I do,” Bellamy whispered, forcing his hands from Rab’s. He felt the exhaled breath against his neck, and Rab’s touches became rougher, more urgent, as he divested Bellamy of his clothing, leaving him naked before the sun. He felt awash with gooseflesh at such exposure, but the day was warm and a quivering sigh slid from his lips as a hot kiss was pressed between his shoulders.

“I lied,” Rab growled behind him. Bellamy could hear the sound of clothing being pulled off with haste. “Sometimes, I like pretty things.”

Bellamy blushed like a milkmaid. “May I open my eyes?”

“Not yet,” Rab said. He was walking through the thick grass, away, then back. “Our clothing needs to be tucked away, or else some beastie may come along a make off with it.”

“Oh, you mean a haggis,” Bellamy said with a crooked grin. 

One summer, when they were much younger, Rab had convinced him of the existence of a wild haggis on the estate. They spent three hours hunting the thing, only for his father to inform him that such things weren’t real.

“Aye.” Rab’s arm was around his waist again, warm and solid, his other hand wandering, tracing along Bellamy’s collarbone, down over his breast, his hip, his groin, his cock. “Can I lead you, Bay?”

“You have me by the balls, you bastard,” Bellamy groaned. “You could lead me to hell and I’d follow.”

Rab chuckled, circling around in front of him, without ever removing his hands from Bellamy’s body. “Easily led, eh?” he said, guiding Bellamy forward, towards the pool. The grass was cool and silken between Bellamy’s toes. “Down a way now, Bay. Take your time.”

“Lud! It’s like ice, you silly beast!”

Rab laughed openly. “You’ll grow accustomed to it,” he promised. “Now get the rest of your arse in here.”

Bellamy stepped down cautiously. The bed of the pool was a combination of pebbles and silt, both soft and hard, shifting beneath his feet. The water rose to knees, then up, hips, waist, until he was close to chest deep and could barely hear his breath over the thunder of the falls.

“There,” Rab murmured, catching his hips and drawing him closer, until they were all but pressed to one another from breast to toe. “That wasnae so bad, was it?” His lips ghosted against Bellamy’s. “Open your eyes.”

Bellamy’s hands were resting on Rab’s forearms, and he opened his eyes to look at the other man, and yet, it still made him catch his breath to have Rab’s face so close to his. Tiny gems of water sparkled in Rab’s unruly hair, misted there from the falls, and Rab’s fingers tightened on his hips, bruising and delicious.

He wanted to speak, to say something, but all he could do was lean closer and press his mouth to Rab’s. Rab was not one to ignore such an invitation, his tongue greedily invading Bellamy’s mouth in a promise echoed by the press of his hips to Bellamy’s.

The water wasn’t so cold as he had thought.

Bellamy slid his hands, wet and slippery, up Rab’s arms, over his chest, into his hair, around his ribs. Anything that meant he was touching. As chill as the water was, Rab was anything but, and his broad thigh pressed between Bay’s legs, rubbing against his cock, making Bellamy growl. 

Rab was always the lead, but now, this was a different place, and this time, Bellamy wanted to show just what a pretty nancy could give to a lover who had gifted him with a beautiful view.

His hand fisted in Rab’s hair, drawing his head back and he pressed his lips to Rab’s throat, biting, sucking, and marking. When Rab gasped, scrabbled and clutched at him like a mad thing, Bellamy’s cock throbbed. By God, the sounds he was making. Was that what he tried to win out of Bellamy every time they lay together?

“You’re mine,” he whispered, “you great hairy bugger.” 

Beneath the water, his hand moved, closing fast about Rab’s manhood. He knew it well enough, knew how to tease, knew how to make it swell against his palm, but already it throbbed for him, and Rab’s hands were tight on his arse, pulling him closer.

“Turn about, Bay,” Rab growled out. “You’ll need to hold on to something.”

Bay’s eyes gleamed. “Make me.”

It was one thing to tumble about on a bed. 

It was another entirely to do battle in a pool, their footing unstable, the currents whirling around them, and Rab pulled Bellamy to him, kissing him with a hunger that made Bellamy’s legs quiver, but he would not give in. He surged back against Rab and they plunged under the water together.

It was terrifying and wonderful and strange, and Rab was tumbling them over and over, and there were bubbles everywhere. Bubbles and hands and clouds of silt and he was pulled back hard against Rab’s chest as they broke the surface, gasping.

Rab’s hand was under his chin, holding his head up, but the other had his hip, and Bellamy moaned breathlessly as Rab pressed against his arse. His feet were skittering against the bed of the pool, and Rab’s cock was hard against him, and lud, he could not gain his footing nor hold himself still.

He reached back blind with one hand, pulling Rab hard against him, giving them purchase enough for Rab to push into him. One hand was not enough, but with a hand of each, they were close enough, and he keened aloud as Rab buried himself to the balls in his body.

“A breath,” Rab groaned against his ear, a moment before they both lost their footing and plunged, locked together, beneath the water. Both Rab’s hands were at his waist, and he moved. By God, he moved, somehow, both of them scrambling with their feet against the bed, and breaking through the water once more, closer to the shore, the shallows, close enough that Rab could hold him fast and he could lift his head from the water, groping at the silty dirt, knees and toes and fingers scrambling as Rab pushed and pulled his body, to and from, against, away, harder.

Bellamy’s fingers closed about a root beneath the water and he clung to it, shuddering, dizzy from lack of breath, water lashing his face, his body, lifting him, weightless. It was all of everything, hot and cold, wet, hard, soft, and he sank his toes to the dirt and pressed back, panting, ragged, shaking. 

One of Rab’s hands moved, snaking down, and squeezed, hard, firm, stroking until Bellamy thought he might scream from it. His head span. His body quaked from the effort of holding himself, of holding Rab within him, of heat, of cold, of wet and hard and over and over the water lashed his face, leaving him half-breathless, gasping, shuddering and Rab squeezed and pulled and pulled and pressed and all at once, it seemed all vanished and Bellamy cried out, shuddering so hard that Rab went still, holding him, holding him fast, as his legs gave way and he sank, gasping, in the water.

He felt Rab hold him tight, felt himself move, though he could not lift a finger, and they were in the shallows, and Rab held him close. They were still linked, he noticed, drifting like pondweed above his lover, warmed from head to toe. Rab was still moving him, gently now, as he half-floated, half-sat above him.

He turned his face to the sun and let his hand drift to toy with his spent cock as Rab thrust slowly, over, over, over, and they were warm and together beneath the sun. His other hand moved, caressed Rab’s hip. 

“You’re very good at that, you know,” he murmured. “Fucking me.” He felt his lover tense and the pleasantly familiar heat inside him. A lazy chuckle escaped him. “Lud, you like it when I speak filth to you, you dirty bastard.”

“Aye,” Rab growled, panting, his arms wrapping tight about Rab’s waist. “You’re such a prissy little gentleman. I like hearing your filth, knowing only I hear it.”

“Oh, I know all kinds,” Bellamy murmured, as Rab shifted beneath him, drawing them halfway to a sitting position. He let his head fall back to rest on Rab’s shoulders. “We prissy little gentlemen have books on the stuff.” He tilted his head to nuzzle his way along Rab’s jaw, licking a path down Rab’s throat. His lover was breathing hard and the fresh water taste was mingling with the salt of sweat. “We like creative fucking, you see.”

“Is that right?” Rab asked, his voice ragged.

“Mm.” Bellamy nudged the tip of his nose against Rab’s jaw. “Such delicious words as well. Latin. Irrumatio. Anilingus. Fellatio.” He smiled. “You can almost taste the meaning of that one, can’t you?” He tilted his head up. “It’s when I use my mouth to pleasure you.”

Rab was stone-still beneath him. “You havenae done that,” he said, his voice low, hungry.

Bellamy bit his lip in mock-innocence. “Would you like me to, Rab?” he whispered. “Would you like me to perform fellatio on you?” He nipped Rab’s earlobe, then traced the edge of his ear with his tongue. “I’m a very quick learner.”

“God above, Bay…” Rab groaned. “I should half-drown you more often.”

Bellamy almost grinned, but it was brushed away when Rab’s hand closed over his mouth.

“Hush,” he whispered, his tone deadly serious. He looked this way and that, reminding Bellamy very much of his father’s hunting dog when it was tracking something. Rab cursed, and pulled Bellamy to his feet, pushing him towards the edge of the pool. “Quick. Out, Bay. There’s someone coming.”

On legs that were still quivering, Bellamy looked about. “Our clothes?”

“No time for that,” Rab said, scrambling out of the pool, water sluicing down his limbs. It would have been quite the sight, was it not for the oncoming invasion. He caught Bay by the hand. “You’ll have to climb with me.”

They were hidden by rocks by the time a group of giggling maids emerged into the clearing, carrying a picnic.

“Damnation,” Rab muttered. He tugged Bellamy’s wrist. “This way. I know somewhere we can wait.”

Bellamy followed, out of breath. He leaned on one of the lower boulders to catch his breath, and looked up. They were halfway up the side of the waterfall.

“Would it not have been quicker to fetch our clothes?” he asked, panting. “Or stayed in the pool and feigned that we were swimming?” Rab turned, hands on his hips, and Bellamy quite forgot what he was complaining about. His eyes were drawn downwards, then he looked back up. “You like the risk, don’t you?”

Rab’s lips twitched. “Don’t you?” he said. He brushed aside a tangle of wild vines, revealing a break in the rock. “After you, m’lord.”

Bellamy eyed him doubtfully, but stepped through a narrow passage of rocks into a mossy grotto, a wall of which was cascading sheets of white water, frothing and roaring. He stepped closer to the water and could see the flickering outlines of the maids against the grass, patches of colour on green. The grotto was deep enough that if they kept to the back, they would not be noticed.

“They might see us,” he murmured as Rab joined him and put an arm around his waist.

“They might,” Rab agreed, “but they might not.” He drew Bellamy around to face him, both of them caught in the spray of the falls. “But you were talking Latin at me, my little Lord. Tell me the word again.”

Bellamy’s hands came to rest at Rab’s waist, trailing misted moisture across his ribs. “You mean fellatio?” he whispered. “Or are you asking me to let you fuck my mouth? To suck you dry?” He shifted his hips. “Is that what you want? Where they might see us?”

Rab’s breath was quickening. “Bay…”

Bellamy’s heart was racing. He had never imagined Rab could be so hungry for such things, such simple things that he could have given him a thousand times before. “Ask me,” he said, his hands trembling at Rab’s side. “Tell me what you want.”

Words had failed him, it seemed, but Rab’s hand rose, and was trembling quite as much as Bellamy’s. He looked at it, then dragged his fingertips along Bellamy’s lips. Bellamy parted his lips, darting his tongue out, tracing the tip of Rab’s forefinger.

Rab made a strangled sound, his hips jerking, and thrust his finger between Bellamy’s lips.

Bellamy watched his face, lazily, slowly, sucking on the finger, darting with his tongue, the corners of his mouth turning up. He drew back a little, nibbling as he went. “Is that what you would have me do, Rab?” he asked hoarsely. “Here? Where they might see?”

Rab looked afraid, as if he might be refused such a thing, but Bellamy only smiled and kissed him. 

“Close your eyes,” he whispered. “Trust me.”

Rab had never looked more beautiful of more vulnerable than he did at that moment, his hands trembling at his sides, his eyes closed, his face bathed in the light that flickered and danced through the waterfall.

Bellamy gazed at him in delight, so very, very perfect.

Though he had little experience of what Rab wanted, it was enough to know it was desired and he wanted to please his lover. He was also a little bit selfish and Rab was naked and wet and quite, quite lovely. It was necessary, Bellamy decided, to taste every inch of the man.

The lips, of course, were first, kissed until bruising, then Bellamy ventured over his jaw, his throat, adding a ruddy twin to the mark on the opposite side. Rab growled, and the very sound rippled against Bellamy’s lips.

“Hush, Rab,” he whispered. “Trust me.”

The bare shoulders, both front and back, were a work of art, and he traced them with teeth, lips, fingers, even the very tip of his nose. Rab was holding himself rigid, careful, but Bellamy could feel him trembling. His hands were at Rab’s ribs when he sank to his knees on the damp moss, dragging his palms down, and even that implication of his position earned another small, hungry sound from his lover. 

He licked each small, flat nipple and nipped them both daintily with his teeth, unsurprised to feel the hot pressed of Rab’s cock, already eager, against his chest. 

“Soon,” he whispered, the heat of Rab’s body before him, and the coolness of the spray at his back a tantalising combination. He darted his tongue along each rib, catching the moisture there, down, his tongue flicking into Rab’s navel, his hands resting at Rab’s hips.

He drew back enough to gaze at the evidence of Rab’s desire. It was wickedness, he knew, but he blew a chilly breath across the swollen head, and Rab’s hands were suddenly gripping his, bruising.

“Look at me, Rab,” Bellamy whispered, awed by the man’s response to him.

Rab’s eyes opened with effort and he looked down, and that was when Bellamy took Rab’s cock in his mouth. The heat should not have surprised him, but it did, and he moved his head slowly, teasing with his tongue, with the barest scrape of his teeth.

One of Rab’s hands fisted into his hair and he swallowed, startled, 

That, it seemed, felt pleasant for Rab’s hips jerked and Bellamy dem near choked on the blessed great thing. He held Rab’s hips, drawing back, taking as much as he might, though he had no doubt it was not near enough. 

He moved one hand to aid him, caressing Rab from root to tip, then sucked once more, and Rab gave a low cry, and all at once, Bellamy’s mouth was quite filled. Rab was staring down at him, panting and holding his hands some way from Bellamy, as if he had done something amiss.

Bellamy lifted a hand to dab at his lips with his index finger. “Lud, but you are a messy fellow, what,” he said, licking his fingers clean. His lips twitched and he added mischievously, “and no stamina either. I barely touched you, old boy, and you were spraying all over the place.”

Rab stared at him blankly, then fell onto his knees on the moss and pulled Bellamy into an utterly delightful, passionate kiss. Bellamy found no reason to protest, as he was rolled onto his back on the moss and kissed silly.

He had not noticed his own returning desire, too caught up in seeing Rab’s pleasure. Nor did he notice until Rab’s hand was about him. Rab was propped over him, leaning on one arm, and with his other, his hand was stroking Bellamy’s manhood, slowly and steadily, drawing delightful little ebbs of pleasure as he hardened against Rab’s palm.

“Mm,” Bellamy murmured between greedy little kisses.

There was no urgency in it, none at all. 

Callused fingers traced between his thighs, cupped him, then held him, squeezed. A rough thumb brushed over the head of his cock, then a firm palm stroked, stroked, stroked. He felt quite content, lazy even, even when Rab lifted his head, the hunter once more.

“Hush.”

Bellamy wriggled his hips in drowsy demand, a hungry sound escaping him. “What…”

Rab was kneeling over him, and put one hand over his mouth. “Bite, if you must,” he whispered, his eyes gleaming, his teeth bared in a wicked grin. “But do not make a sound. We are not alone.”

Bellamy stared up at him, but panic had no place here, not when Rab looked delighted and feral, and his hand was moving faster and more urgently.

People were nearby, people who might well hear him if he made a sound.

“They dinnae know you’re being a perverted wee fornicator,” Rab whispered, his hand moving with strong, steady strokes, so firm, so knowing, his lips so close to Bellamy’s ear that he could feel every heated gust and it sent fire flashing through his belly to his groin. “I would have you here, Bay. Take you, and keep you silent, and they’ll never know. You’ll walk by them in the halls, on the stair, when they give you breakfast, and you’ll imagine all the things I did to you but an arm’s length from them.”

Bellamy was trembling and he clung to Rab’s arm, holding his mouth in place. He must have bitten to stifle the moans that were bubbling in his throat, for there was blood on his tongue and he could hear his heartbeat, feel it in every inch of him and he shuddered and writhed and jerked as Rab’s hand moved, moved, moved, moved…

Rab’s hand remained there long after Bellamy had found his release, his eyes on Bellamy’s face, his lips curled in a wolfish smile. They simply stared at one another, holding one another by one means or another, until Rab was quite sure that the maids were all away from the waterfall, and they were alone once more. 

They picked their way down the hillside as the sun was starting to sink and waded through the pool to clean themselves of the stains of moss and one another. When they finally emerged from the other side, Rab looked back at the waterfall thoughtfully.

“I think I’ll have to find some other pretty scenery for you, eh, Bay?” he said. “You seem to like it an awfy lot.”

“Oh, I do,” Bellamy said, grinning. “Very much.”

Rab looked him up and down with amusement. “Dirty wee nancy,” he said cheerfully.

“I didn’t hear you complain,” Bellamy chuckled, replacing his cravat. 

“Eh. I’ve had worse days,” Rab said. He tossed Bellamy’s hat to him. “Come along, your Lordship. We’ll need to get you home and get you fed. All that exertion’ll have left you a wee bit peckish.”

“So you want me to put more in my mouth?” Bellamy inquired mildly, grinning in delight when Rab blushed to his very ears.


End file.
